


if they should take me

by mywholecry



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: DARK DARK DARK, Death Eaters, Dubious Consent, Harm to Children, Incest, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Multi, Psychological Horror, Torture, explicit violence, hints of D/s, werewolf violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywholecry/pseuds/mywholecry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You'll have to learn to deal with this," Barty says, crawls over him to rest his weight over Regulus' body, their bones lined up. "War is messy. You have to learn how to get messy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	if they should take me

**notes** : written in 2009! Super dark! Really, really dark! Note the tags! 

Regulus has never been sure about anything, not like Barty is. He doesn't have that faith inside of him. He has watched houses burn down, has watched the backs of innocent people ( _not innocent_ , he reminds himself, and _we are doing this for a reason_ ) arching in pain, mouths opened but no sound coming out, and he still doesn't know why it's happening, not really. He can still hear the shift, the _break_ , of bones, the sound of skin tearing close to his ear when he tries to fall asleep. 

Barty explains things in soft, earnest tones, even though Regulus is older, even though he was the first to give over his arm and life and soul to the cause. 

"This is a war for future generations," Barty says, like a textbook, body curved into Regulus' as they lie in his bed at Grimmauld Place. "We're making the world better, for them." And Regulus doesn't know about the future, but he knows what's happening right now, and he turns his head to see Barty already staring at him with clear blue eyes. 

When Barty leans forward to kiss him, he shuts his eyes, lets all of himself fall into it. This isn't the first time they've done this, a handful of meetings at school, pressing each other into corners and cupboards, into their mattresses late at night. 

"For them," Barty repeats, into the air between their mouths, and Regulus nods. 

* 

They kill a mother-to-be after she begs, and Regulus watches her slide to the ground in an almost elegant arc, her back curving down to cover her stomach. He turns away, vomits quietly, and nobody notices but Barty. When they get back to his room, Regulus is crying already, choked on a sob when Barty slung an arm around him and apparated after they had finished, biting his lip and crawling to bury his face in his sheets. Barty sits down next to him. Hands on his shoulder. Flips him over. 

"You'll have to learn to deal with this," Barty says, crawls over him to rest his weight over Regulus' body, their bones lined up. "War is messy. You have to learn how to get messy." 

"I can't," Regulus whispers, shaking his head. He wants to hide his face, but all he can do is shut his eyes and keep them shut and try to ignore the weight on his shoulders and legs, the extra pulse against his skin. "I can't, I can't, _please_ don't." 

"You can," Barty says, quietly. "You have to." 

He mouths at the tight skin of Regulus' throat, teeth scraping down to his collarbone, biting down. 

Regulus coughs, tears stinging his eyes, but he moves his hips up involuntarily. 

"You have to," Barty repeats. 

* 

They burn the house first, before anything else, pull the family out into the yard and immobilize them so they're on their knees, tears hanging on their cheeks. It's a few days before the full moon, and Regulus watches Fenrir warily, shifting towards the back of the circle so he's not in his line of vision. There's not many of them, a few older men and Barty, Bellatrix with her long arms draped over Regulus' shoulders, shaking with anticipation at his back. 

"It's time," she says, wet lips brushing his earlobe, chin digging into his shoulder as she shifts her arms to wrap them around his waist, squeezing. He leans back into her. He doesn't look at the little girl, her long dark hair hanging in front of her face, lips twisted in a sudden shock of a frown like she's about to cry out, always. 

Nobody says anything when it starts. There's no witty dialogue to make this seem less real. He turns his eyes up to watch the Dark Mark hanging heavy in the sky above the house as they let the man stand up, as they make him move forward so his wife and child can see. 

"Crouch," one of the men says, moving his eyes over, and Barty jerks to attention. He moves forward eagerly, stumbling a little on his feet, and Regulus can feel people laughing on either side of him but he's too busy trying to breathe. Barty's voice doesn't break when he raises his wand. 

" _Crucio_!" and he really means it. Barty has never met this family before, and he really means it, and Regulus almost steps out of Bella's arms as the man's body twists, crumples to the ground. Bella's laughter floats into the air around his head, and he can't stop watching, still and motionless as his family as he claws at his skin, making a sound that Regulus has never heard before. By the time Barty stops, there's no skin visible under the blood, the man's knees curled up to his chest. 

"Oh," Bellatrix says, pulling away from Regulus and clapping her hands. "Let me finish, yeah?" 

Barty grins at her, bowing slightly as she walks past him. She toes at the man, making him turn over onto his back so he's staring blearily at her. She presses a foot into the inside of the elbow, and he opens his mouth, a low whine in the back of his throat. She smiles down at him. 

"Aww," she murmurs, then pulls her wand out and says the killing curse like it's nothing at all. 

When they unfreeze the woman, she screams as loud as she can, trying to get to her daughter, and Bella rolls her eyes and silences her with a flick of her wand. She moves it so the woman is jerked into the air, feet dangling a foot off the ground, hands clutched to her face. 

"Reg," Barty says, sweetly, linking their fingers together and tugging him forward. "Come on, Regulus. Have fun." Regulus can feel eyes on his back as he steps forward, wand shaking in his hands. 

He says _crucio_ over and over, voice breaking at the end, and the woman's body is pulled tight with pain for a few moments but it doesn't linger. 

"Bored," Bellatrix murmurs, rolling her eyes. She flicks her wand and the woman's limbs shoot out to all sides, her skin pulling tight at her bones until they shatter inside it. Regulus backs up, eyes wide when she falls face-first to the ground, arms sticking up impossibly above her, pale white bone at her elbows. 

When they let the little girl go, she doesn't move, looking straight ahead with tears still streaming down her face. Fenrir makes a noise, and somebody says something that Regulus can't hear anymore, but he's knows what's going to happen, he knows. When Fenrir surges forward, Regulus tries to turn away but Bellatrix holds him, his face in her hands. There isn't any sound when he bites into her neck, breaking skin, and Regulus shuts his eyes until he's pulled away with Bella's fingernails breaking his skin, ripping at his chest, apparated with a cold arm wrapped around his waist and hands all over his body. 

*

He still can't move, can't even open his eyes, completely still except for the static electric panic sparking in his veins, making his skin buzz and his limbs shake, breath frenetic. There are hands moving on his body, taking off his clothes carefully, lifting his arms and his knees, brushing the scratches starting to bleed across his chest. A cool press of a cloth, and he jumps, just his shoulders moving to escape the way his skin tears a little more as they clean the scratches, and it would hurt so much less if they used magic. He doesn't know why Barty isn't using magic. (It must be Barty, has to be him. It was his voice in Regulus' ear when they apparated, these calloused fingers digging into the skin of his wrist.) 

"Wake up, wake up, wake up," a voice whispers, and then there is Barty's laugh, a little nervous around the edges, and Regulus feels himself being pulled in a different direction, four hands on his arms and chest. 

He's lifted into the air, can feel the jolt of the magic they didn't use before moving him up before lowering him again. His eyes shoot open when he's dropped into water, arms shooting out until his elbows hit the porcelain sides of a stained bathtub, hard enough to make points of light obscure his vision. 

He tries to breathe as the water gets warmer, doesn't fight when there are hands on his chest, the point of a wand to his temple, lips on his forehead and a quiet, "sleep now." 

* 

There are hands on him when he wakes up, pressing into the still-damp curves of his hipbones, and he startles, jerking away. Eyes wide then he sees Barty straddling him fully clothed, legs spread to either side of him. It's familiar, a little sweet, because he can hardly remember what happened last night, and he doesn't know where he is, and Barty is smiling. Regulus sighs, stops struggling. 

"There's a dear," Barty says, patting his cheek. "And how are we feeling this morning?"

Regulus' voice breaks before he even gets a word out, like he's been screaming for hours without realizing it. He shuts his eyes and can almost make out images, a fire, maybe, dark blood in the dirt. 

"I can't. . ." Regulus starts, then stops, squinting up at him. "Did you, did you give me something? I can't _remember_." 

"Bella thought you would feel better if we took a few of your memories from you. Just for awhile. I've got them in safe keeping." Barty dips his head down to press a wet kiss to the edge of Regulus' jaw. "You were a mess." 

"But, why," Regulus murmurs, shutting his eyes tight again. It's like there's something throbbing in the back of his skull, waiting for him to acknowledge it. He doesn't know how you take someone's memories from them without them knowing, how you keep them, what could be making his stomach twist even though he can't remember it. 

"Hush," Barty breathes. "We're going to take care of you." 

Regulus looks up at him, then past his shoulder to see Bellatrix leaning in the doorway, watching them with bright eyes. He thinks they might be in her flat, the one she bought after she left home, with the walls cracking where they meet the ceiling. His eyes flicker back to Barty, watching his face as Bellatrix wanders towards them in his peripheral vision. 

"Pretty thing," Bellatrix sings, crawling onto the edge of the bed, folding long legs like a spider in front of her. "So small and weak. I want to see you take him apart." 

"But who will put him back together?" Barty murmurs, not even glancing up at her as he slides off Regulus to start to tug at his clothes. Bellatrix laughs, a thin noise that scrapes across Regulus' skin, the mattress shaking lightly when she falls on her back so her unwashed hair covers his feet. He pulls his legs up, wincing. 

"Barty, Barty," he whispers, head aching, "I don't understand." 

"You don't need to, love." Barty smiles at him again, a happy upturn of his lips, cock curving towards his stomach as he moves to kneel on the bed next to Regulus. He leans so his spine bends out against the paper white skin of his back, pressing soft, damp kisses to his neck, his cheek, only touching him with his lips until Regulus is hard and his body is straining towards him even though his limbs still feel too heavy, weighted, even though he's almost hyper aware of Bellatrix lying at his feet, propped up on her elbow. 

" _Please_ ," Regulus gasps, and the word from his own mouth sparks a memory, a tiny woman with wide eyes, a bone breaking through skin at a thin wrist. He lets out a groan, and he's not sure whether it's because he's starting to remember or because Barty has sunk fingernails into both shoulders, pulling away so their faces are a few inches apart before moving back in to bite at his mouth one more time, hard enough to draw blood from under ripped skin. 

"Hands and knees," Barty says, firmly, backing away and leaving Regulus to sag back against the bed. He blinks up at Barty, wincing when he feels a hand landing on his hip, sharply. Slowly, he pulls himself up, moving to pull his knees underneath his chest and bow his head. Barty runs fingers through his hair, petting him down to the nape of his neck, cupping the top of his spine. 

"Good boy," Bella says, and he doesn't have to look at her to know that she's smiling, stained teeth and smeared lipstick. The bed shifts as she moves forward, on her knees next to him, pressing fingers under his chin to make him look up. Her long fingernails scratch against his neck, his jaw. 

She kisses him when Barty presses fingers inside of him, one hand on his throat, the other holding his head still so he can't do anything but open his mouth in little cries against her teeth. 

* 

Later, they have curled up on either side of him, an arm around his neck, his waist. Holding him down. Barty is asleep, and Bella is singing in his ear, softly. 

He remembers everything.


End file.
